


To The Point of Clarity

by stardustruby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Brotherly Winchester Moments, Car Accidents, Castiel & Anna Friendship, Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Castiel and Dean in Love, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Heavy Angst, Helpful Sam, Hurt Dean, M/M, Rainy Days, Scared Dean, Snow Days, Sweet Castiel, Understanding Sam, Young Sammy, anna milton - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-07 12:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1898292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustruby/pseuds/stardustruby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rain and Headaches. Sometimes things just happen. (Re Upload)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Accident

_“I wanna hold you high_  
 _And steal your pain_  
 _Away”_  
 _-Broken by Seether (Feat. Amy Lee)_

The sky was bright red and orange, and starting to fade to black as Dean drove the Impala away from it. He was laughing in the driver seat, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding the hand of his best friend, and only person he ever had eyes for. Their shirts were covered in sweat from their long concert day outside, their hair matted down. Dean’s dirty blonde hair laid straight down, while Castiel’s brown hair fell down in the front in swirls and the back of it was starting to curl up. Dean couldn’t think of a morebeautiful sight.

“Cas, I’m telling you: He waved to me!”

Cas rolled his eyes at Dean and shook his head, smiling all the same.

“There were hundreds of people there, Dean, there’s no way.”

“Wow, thanks babe for ruining my dreams,” Dean commented, faking hurt. Cas stuck his tongue out at him, and let go of his hand to pull at the bottom of his sweat covered, black band t shirt, holding it up from his stomach and chest. Dean had bought it for him at, what Dean called, “music fest..” Cas just stuck with concert. He didn’t really listen to a lot of the bands; he rather sat around and watched Dean jump around, sing off key, and high five other concert goers. He just liked to see Dean laugh and smile, having fun at some place he wanted to be.

“This is disgusting. I feel disgusting. Ugh.” Cas dropped his shirt back onto his body and groaned as the shirt automatically stuck to him. Dean just laughed at him.

“The drive home is just another 20 minutes, you’ll be fine. I’m not complaining and I have to drive.”

Dean looked down at his own sweat covered t shirt. It was the same one that Cas had on, just in white. He had originally bought the white one for Cas, but after remembering that Cas wore a size smaller than him, he went back to exchange it. The only one in his size that they had left was the black. Cas didn’t complain. He never did. He put on a smile, kissed Dean (which earned them some cheers, some claps, and few odd stares), and then quickly stripped out of his old blue t shirt, and into the black one. Dean knew Cas didn’t do concerts. But he did enjoy the drinking, and the effects that the bands had. Plus, he knew Cas loved seeing him smile as much as Dean loved Cas’s.

Castiel sighed, and leaned back in his seat, his head resting on the window. He was tired, hot, and felt just plain gross. He needed a shower and a nap. With or without Dean. Mostly hoping for the with Dean.

He smiled at the thought, and saw droplets of rain hit the window. He leaned up to look at Dean, who was already looking upset. Dean didn’t like to drive in the rain. He didn’t really like the rain in general, honestly. Castiel loved the rain, on the other hand. Dean always gave him a funny look when Castiel would show up at his door step every time it rained, having ran all the way to his house instead of driving, always trying to get Dean outside with him. Dean would always sigh, look at him, grab him a towel, then start hot chocolate or coffee while Cas sat on Dean’s living room floor, searching through the movies on TV. They would spend the rest of the day watching re runs and terrible, low budget SyFy movies.

Dean gripped the wheel tighter, and muttered something under his breath. Castiel didn’t say anything; he wanted Dean to make sure he was driving well through the rain. The rain picked up, hitting the Impala harder. Cas looked around nervously at all the other cars around them on the highway. Most where going the same steed as they were better the rain, but some had slowed down, including some of the cars in front of them.

“Goddammit, why did it have to be rain...and why the hell is everyone’s headlights so much brighter all of a sudden...” Cas heard Dean muttering to himself, and he reached over, touching his shoulder. Dean looked at Cas for a second, and smiled. Cas smiled back, and looked out on the road again. Many cars were trying to get around each other, and a semi was in the lane next to theirs, in the middle, and was holding up the cars.

“That’s it, we’re going around.”

Dean looked in the mirrors, and out the back window before pulling behind the semi. The cars behind honked, but Dean ignored him. He was getting a headache and he would give anything to be at home with Cas, taking a shower and then taking a nice long sleep until 2 in the afternoon. He put a hand to his forehead and leaned his elbow on the window ledge. The rain gave him headaches. The cars honks gave him headaches. The waiting gave him headaches. He felt Cas reach over and take his hand, making little circles on his thumb. He smiled, and stared at the back of the semi truck, willing it to move.

They sat there in the car for ten minutes, then everything moved at once. All the cars went forward and everyone was at their normal speed again.

“Finally!” Dean shouted, staying behind the semi, trying not to get to close to the back of it. He wanted to be going faster to get home.

“Still got that damn headache though...of course!”

He heard Cas laugh and he looked over. Cas, as always, or at least most of the time, was looking at Dean, full lip smile on his face. Seeing Castiel smile was one of the many things Dean convinced himself he lived for. Nothing was worth it if Castiel wasn’t smiling. Dean couldn’t help but smile back. He looked back at the rain soaked road, putting more distance between himself and the semi. He took Cas’s hand and kissed the top of it. He could almost hear Cas’s smile on his face.  
“I’ll say it again: those headaches aren’t going to go away by you bitching about it.”

“Hey, don’t lecture me. I’m in pain.”

“Hang on, I know what will help.” Dean didn’t understand what Cas was talking about; he had taken all different kinds of meds, nothing ever worked. He looked over, full face at him, and was smacked in the forehead with Cas’s palm.

“Why? Just why?”

“Because I’m bored and you should’ve seen the look on your face,” Cas answered, in between laughs, and Dean couldn't help but laugh along with him. Cas’s laughter was like truly hearing Castiel. It was beautiful, shout, and was always around.

“You know I love you,” Cas breathed in a mouthful of air, and ruffled Dean’s matted hair.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you, too.” Dean looked at Cas, with pure love and joy in his eyes.

Cas’s showed the same.

Dean flipped on his blinker to move into the next lane, the very right, and started to pull up on the side of the semi. Cas had gone back to holding Dean’s hand, making little circles on his thumb again. All he could think about were those three words that were so awkward at the start, and now held everything they could ever say to each other. Cas could see the love in Dean’s eyes, and he knew Dean could see it in his. Cas made sure to always tell Dean he loved him. He deserved at least that. In Cas’s mind, Dean deserved the world. There was nowhere he wouldn't go for this man.

“Babe, are we almost home?” Castiel asked, looking down from where his head sat against the window again, at his own hand wrapped in Dean’s, thumb making circles. He loved doing that, it calmed them both down, and it was nice to feel like someone was  
there. Castiel knew they both needed to know that.

Dean nodded, looking the time on his watch, twisting the arm that was on wheel to face him. He knew Cas was tired, he was tired to. Within 5 minutes, they would be at Dean’s house, where hopefully Sam was asleep, where they would sleep peacefully. Sleeping (actually sleeping) with Cas was something like sleeping with a kitten. He looked adorable, and sometimes took up the covers, or most of the bed. But Dean loved him too much to care. He would gladly give up anything for this man.

At that thought, Dean pulled up a bit farther by the side of the semi, more than half way, but not quite at the cab yet.

“Yeah, the exit’s right up-”

That’s the last word’s Dean was able to get out before the semi pulled over to the left, and hit Dean’s side. The car was pushed into the side rail, and over it into the grass area before the driver of the semi truck realized what was happening. The car was pushed together, the glass of the front windshield, and drivers side window shattered. The passenger side window was shatter when it hit the railing. The car landed upside down, with both it’s passengers inside.

The EMT’s showed up within minutes, the hospital just up the road from where the car had just come from. Getting the drivers side open was much harder than it was getting the passenger side. Glass was sprayed across the grass, the car driver side crushed together  
and passenger side pushed in.

The EMT’s that manged to open the driver’s side found two men, one with dirty blonde hair, the other with deep brown, both unconscious, strapped to their seats, hands still locked together.


	2. Hospital

_“What are we_  
 _Who are they_  
 _Who says those bastards don’t deserve to pay_  
 _Well it’s enough, it’s just enough, ‘cause we don’t stand a chance_  
 _So long you stay around, you’re just another song and dance_  
 _It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair_  
 _Still I’m the only one who seems to care”_  
 _-It’s Not My Fault I’m Happy by Passion Pit_

Dean opened his eyes. All he could see was white, and his hearing was filled with an annoying beeping sound. He reached up to rub his eyes and grimaced when his hand touched his right cheek. There was covering on it, from his cheek bone to the bottom of his chin. He put his arm slowly down, blinking rapidly to fix his vision. All he could hear was the same beeping and a few muffled voices.

“Dean.”

That voice he knew. Better than any voice in the world. He looked to his left, vision becoming clearer, to see Cas sitting in a red plastic chair, sitting as close as he could get to the bed, a coat hanging over the back of it like he had been there for days, his hair a complete mess. Dean managed a smile, and saw the light in Castiel’s eyes come back, like it had been gone for so long. Smiling hurt Dean, but he did it just to see that light.

Cas gave him a small smile back, and reached his hand out, taking Dean’s own, like they had been in the car. He held on to him tight, as if he held on any less, Dean would float away. Dean could see Cas’s eyes starting to fill with tears, and he slowly let go of his hand, and reached up to wipe them away. The action made his left side ache, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want Cas to cry. He never wanted Castiel to cry because of him, ever.

Castiel took Dean’s hand and held it again, holding them in front of him. He placed his lips on the back of Dean’s hand and just stared at him. Dean looked right back, and noticed the number of cuts on Cas’s face, and a few specks of glass still stuck in Cas’s hair.

_“And it’s all my fault.”_

Dean cleared his throat and stick his tongue out to wet his lips before trying to speak.

“Cas...I...I’m sorry.” His voice came out rough, and low, his mouth not wanting to form words. He felt his own eyes starting to tear up.

“Dean, please. Please just...this wasn’t your fault.” Castiel’s hand tightened around Dean’s.

“Yes it is!,” Dean raised his voice as much as he could, which only made his voice more rough. “All of this is my fault, if I just would have waited, you wouldn’t be cut up, and me-”

Dean finally looked down at himself. Other then his face, his side still ached, and he could feel a bandage on his head.

“What the hell is even wrong with me?”

Cas sighed and sat up straighter, still holding on to Dean’s hand.

“A cut on your cheek, which, honestly, is kinda bad, you'll end up with a scar, a small gash on your forehead, and....you had glass stuck on your left side. They were able to get it all out, you’ll be fine. I promise. You're going to have quite a few scars but you'll be okay.”

Castiel kissed Dean’s hand, but Dean was still upset.

“And what about you, Cas? Are you okay?”

“Dean, I’m fine.”

Dean sighed, and leaned his head back on the pillow. He shut his eyes to protect them from the lights above.

“How long have we been there?”

“Three days.”

Dean’s eyes flashed open and his head spin towards Cas.

“Three days! Cas, what about Sam!”

“They called Sam when they brought us in. He was here earlier, but when home for the night. He stayed all the other nights, but the nurses thought he needed a break and a good rest”.

Of course he did. Sam wouldn’t just let Dean lay in a hospital room all by himself, but Dean didn’t want Sam to sleep in a hospital chair for days.

“What about you?”

Cas smiled at Dean, and chuckled a bit.

“I haven’t left, Dean.”

Dean managed a smile back, and squeezed Castiel’s hand.

“I love you, you know that, right?”

“I love you too, Dean.”

****Two Weeks Later****

“It feels GREAT to be out of that place! Fresh air, man, this is all I needed.”

Dean, Sam and Cas where walking out of the hospital a few weeks later, towards Sam’s car. It was a old red dodge but fit all three of them so it worked. Dean was limping still, his side making him unable to walk correctly, and he was still pretty wrapped up, but Sam had talked the the nurses and doctors in to allow him to leave, talking mostly outside his room where Dean couldn’t hear them.

“Wait,” Dean stopped in his tracks, at the back of the car, Cas at his side, Sam alright unlocking the car.

“What?” Sam and Cas asked him at the same time.

“What about my baby?”

Castiel laughed and took Dean’s hand, playing with his fingers, moving them like they were playing a piano.

“Babe, you can barely walk straight and all you care about is your car.”

“Yes, I’m worried about my car, of course I’m worried.” Dean’s bright green eyes went huge and he looked at Cas in his blue ones.

“It’s at the work shop. Sam had it taken there the other day. He figured you’d be upset.”

Dean smiled, and it still hurt. And he still didn’t care.

He looked over at Sammy, who was staring at him.

“Thanks, Sammy.”

Sam just nodded his head, and unlocked the car for Dean.

Dean limped over to his side, and climbed in, Cas climbing into the back. Sam looked over at Dean before backing up out of the parking space. Just looked at him.

“What, man?”

“Nothing, just, just making sure your wraps were still in place.”

Dean thought about that as Sam finally backed up and started the drive home, staying on the service road, Cas singing a few words to the songs he knew on the classic radio station.

Sam had been looking at him weirdly every since he came back to the hospital to see that Dean had woken up. Like he didn’t believe it was his brother. He and Cas would sit with him, and ask him questions. He would answer, and even then, Sam would just stare at him. And when a doctor would come in to see Dean, Sam would pull him out into the hallway and talk to him for about 20 minutes before the doctor would leave. Once, a man in a suit with a clipboard showed up when Sam had went to get coffee. Cas and Dean were watching show Soap that happened to be on that morning, when this man just walked in and started asking Dean “how was he feeling” and “if he was okay right now”. Dean answered yes to them and then Sam walked in. He rushed the man out of the room like he did the doctors. Cas said the man worked for the hospital and was just checking on him. And that Sam did that with the doctors because he thought they would make Dean upset. Dean didn’t mind after that. He never liked doctors anyways.

Once, Sam left for a whole day, telling Dean that he had a “thing at work”. Dean didn’t think much of it, him and Cas were spending the day cuddling in the hospital bed. Sam hadn’t wanted to leave, but after a phone call, he rushed out. Dean wondered about that. But when Sam came back at the end of the day with a sad expression on his face, he figured things hadn’t gone well so he didn’t ask.

Dean and Cas would be talking, about what they wanted to do when Dean got out of the hospital, and Sam would sit on Dean’s other side, and just look at them both with a weird look on his face. Dean never asked why.


	3. Sam

_Well it was not your fault but mine_   
_And it was your heart on the line_   
_I really fucked it up this time_   
_Didn’t I, my dear”_   
_-Little Lion Man by Mumford and Sons_

****A Week Later****

Sam drove the Impala up the drive of his and Dean’s shared home, careful to shut it off as soon as he parked it. Dean had been waiting for his baby to get repaired and now that it was done, Sam wanted it to be a surprise. Sam stared out at the tangle of roses that were planted on the side of the house. They had been the their mothers, before she passed. She had loved them so much, that she planted them when the boys moved in here. Dean wasn't as fond of them, saying how it looked like a bunch of girls lived there, letting his mother plant them only because, well, it was their mother. Then Cas showed. After that, Dean gave Cas a rose every time they bloomed.

Sam sighed and leaned back in the seat, his hands on his lap. Dean. He didn’t know what to do about him. He....he needed to do something. When Dean was in the hospital, he didn’t think much of all of it. He thought that it would just stop and he would be able to actually talk to Dean. He almost said something the time he left for the whole day, but Dean was smiling and watching TV and he didn’t want to say anything. He hesitated for awhile and Dean noticed. A phone call convinced him to go, promising himself that he would talk to Dean when he got back. But Dean had seen the look on Sam’s face when he came back, and didn’t say much. He just went to sleep and Sam lost his courage.

The doctors had wanted to keep Dean there longer, because the nurses had reported some of it, and the doctors knew something was wrong. Sam knew that too, but he figured that maybe home would be best. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

He had talked to Bobby about everything that happened, and Bobby thought that being straight forward with it was the best way. Dean hadn't left the house much, since he didn’t have the Impala, and when Charlie and Garth called, Sam just told him that he was sleeping. He needed to talk to Dean himself. But how the hell was he suppose to do that? He didn’t know what to say. Dean knew that Sam was looking at him funny, and Sam couldn't stand all of this. He hated himself for not saying anything in the hospital. But how could he? He just thought things would stop. But they never did. Things were never that easy.

The screen door slammed and Sam’s head snapped up.

Dean was on the porch in awe, staring at his baby, a huge smile in place. He didn’t limp as much as before, and while the cut had left a bad scar on his cheek, it was healed almost all the way. It didn’t hurt to smile anymore.

“Oh, that’s my baby!” 

He half ran to the car, his pride and joy, and managed to hug the top of it on the passenger side, and then dropped down to look inside at Sammy.

“Sammy, have I told you lately that you’re the best brother? Ever?” 

Sam laughed and climbed out of the car, just in time for Dean to run over and jump in the driver side.

“Actually, no. But yeah, your welcome.” 

Sam stood to the side, with his hands in his pockets to protect from the cold. The hot fall that they had was very fast over and now the winter had set in. Looking up at the sky, he knew that the weather man was right; it should start snowing soon.

“Exactly how she was before!” Dean shouted, putting his hands over the wheel and dashboard. 

His smile was stuck on his face, and it never faulted. Sam smiled at the sight, and then remembered he still needed to talk to Dean. He hesitated, not sure if now was the right time. He leaned down to the driver’s window to face Dean.

“Hey, Dean, before you take off, I need to talk to you. Come inside,-”

Dean slammed the driver side door shut, and faced Sam.

“No can do, Sammy, I told Cas that I would take him to a movie or something when I got baby back,” Dean said over the rumble of the Impala’s engine and started to back up.

“Dean, wait-”

“Sam, I said we can talk when I get back.”

Dean pulled out of the driveway, where Sam stood, wondering if he should get in his own car and chase after Dean. He looked up at the sky instead, and saw a single flake drop down. Sam wasn't sure what to do.

He worried for what his brother would do soon, and started to pace between the house and his own car. He figured he should do what he had thought in the first place. He walked back into the house, and grabbed his keys, locked up, and went to his car. He started it up and was about to pull out when he saw one rose that was still in bloom. The rest were gone, the last sticking out like a cut.

Without thinking, Sam climbed out of the car, and picked it, making sure to get the steam, too. He ignored the prick from the thorns on his fingers, and carried it back to the car. He laid it in the passenger seat, and stared at it laying there for a minute. He knew what was going to happen, and he wasn't hoping Dean would be okay with him. If anything, he figured Dean would hate him. He shook his head at the rose, wondering why he would even grab it....

He turned away from it, starting the heat, and backed up to follow his brother.


	4. Truth

_"Who will bring me flowers when it’s over_  
 _And who will give me comfort when it’s cold_  
 _Who will I belong to when the day just won’t give in_  
 _And who will tell how it ends and how it all begins_  
 _Oh no_  
 _Oh no_  
 _Don’t ever say goodbye_  
 _I’m only human”_  
 _-Flowers For A Ghost, by Thriving Ivory_

Dean drove down the road with the biggest smile on his face. He loved the feeling of his baby’s wheel under his fingers, and the feel of that seat. The roar of the engine was music to his ears. “Speaking of which,” Dean thought, reaching behind his seat to the box of tapes, and popping one into the player. AC/DC, his classic choice for classic rock, filled the car and he sung while headed towards Cas’s place.

He hadn’t been to Cas’s house since the accident, Cas came to him instead. Dean never had to call him. He would show up every morning, if he even left, which he hardly did. They spent days watching old movies on TV, ordering pizza or Chinese, or just laying around on the couch, napping the whole day. It was days like those that Dean loved. The small, simple moments of falling asleep with Castiel were the best days he had ever had. Sam would come home early enough sometimes from the office and make them dinner. Then they would have a dinner like a real family. Dean loved those times, too.

Dean wondered about Sam. What did he want to talk about? There was nothing wrong, Dean’s recovery had been going by great. He didn’t know what to think.

Finally, he made it to Castiel’s house.

The place looked wreaked. Cas usually took great care of his home, making sure it was in great condition all year around, even more in the winter. But grass was uncut, the screen door wide open, the mailbox barely closed with mail stuck inside. Dean was shocked at the place, climbing out of the Impala careful, pushing his keys into his front pocket, looking around. If he hadn’t spent days and nights there, he might have thought he was at the wrong place. He shut the drivers side door and walked to the end of the driveway to the mailbox. He opened the lid and grabbed the pile of mail that was almost pouring out of the box.

Dean looked through the pile as he walked back up the driveway and the walk way to the front door, passing Castiel’s Jeep. Dean had never liked the thing; when Cas showed up with it the first time, he refused to get in it. After Cas practically begging him for a half hour, Dean climbed in and they drove through town. After awhile, it didn’t bother him as much. He did it for Cas.

The pile was bills mostly, and a letter or two from Cas’s younger sister, Anna. The siblings would rather write to each other than call. They like the old fashioness of it. But this wasn’t like Castiel. He always paid his bills on time, always answered Anna’s letters. Always. Dean dropped the arm holding the mail by his side and walked up the stone steps to the front door. On either side of the door, there were two plants that Cas took care of like Sam would take care of a dog, like Dean took care of his baby. During the winter, Cas would bring them inside and sit them on a table he had bought just for those two plants, and sat them by the front window. They were still outside.

Dean looked down the porch that covered the whole front of the house. They had both invested in a small porch swing when Cas first bought the house, mostly because Cas had seen it in a movie and thought it was a couplely thing to do. And Dean loved seeing Cas’s smile. But the cover and cushions that went along with it were still outside, like the plants. Dean was getting more confused the longer he stood there. Cas usually brought all of it inside, the moment the weather channel said anything about snow. Dean had saw a few snow flakes hit his windshield on the drive over, but he had been to excited to complain about it.

Not sure what to really do, Dean put all the mail under his arm, and walked to the swing. He picked up the cushions and the cover (his cover; he had kept it in the Impala long before he met Cas and he always thought it belonged here after he did) carrying them back to the front door. He sit a cushion down for a minute to open the door. It was locked. Even more odd. Cas never locked his door when he was home. He picked the keys out of his pocket and found the spare key that Cas had given him. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, reaching down to grab the cushion he had sat on the ground. He carried them inside and sat them by the door. He was quiet when he looked up.

The whole place was silent. Like a library. Dean couldn’t understand. There was usually music playing, Cas loved the classics, and played them at the highest volume. And by classics, he meant everything from classical piano to The Beatles, sometimes even some of Dean’s tapes. Even when he wasn’t home, he would turn it down, just barely, leaving it on so he could come home to sweet music. But his car was here, so where was he?

“The tape must have stopped or maybe he just didn’t think about it..” Dean muttered to himself.

He wondered where Cas had ran off to, as he went back outside and grabbed his love’s two plants, bringing them inside to their table. He went back to the door and reached out to shut the screen door, and the front door. He walked into the next room, the living room, to find everything in place, but boxes littered the room. A few shelf’s of books were packed up in boxes. Cas hadn’t mentioned moving or packing things up. Cas loved this place, he would never think about moving. Dean was sure he would explain when he came home. Walking to the dining room and the kitchen, he dropped off the mail on the table, and moving his way to the fridge.

“I’m sure he’ll be home soon, he probably just went to the store.”

But when he opened the fridge, no light came on. The whole fridge was empty. Dean stood there, hunched over, trying to wrap his head around what was going on. He stood up and looked behind him at the cabinets. There were more boxes lined up along the counter, and some cabinets were wide open, the dishes and cups missing. Dean took small steps towards the boxes, and pulled on one to look inside. Dishes rattled in their place. Dean stared at them what seemed like hours. Finally pushing the box back on the counter, he ran thoughts through his head.

_“Is he moving?”_   
_“Why didn’t he say anything to me?”_   
_“Where is he now?”_   
_“Is he-”_

Dean refused to let himself finish the last thought, breaking it into pieces. But his anxiety started up. He rushed to the kitchen light and flicked it. Nothing. 

He ran back into the living room, to Cas’s stereo. He hated to love that thing. It had 3 pieces, a tuner, for the regular radio, a CD player, and a tape player. The speakers were huge, two on each side of the shelf the pieces sat on. They boomed no matter what you played. Cas’s classic music could be heard from the street in the middle of the day, and if you walked inside, you would find him cleaning everything in sight, cooking dinner, or laying on the couch, dazing into his own little world.

The ON button was pushed in, but the lights on the tape player weren't lit up. Cas was like Dean, refusing to update to CD’s, mostly because all the classics were only on the tapes. Dean pushed the button to open the player. No tape. The box were Cas kept all of his tapes wasn’t on top of the speakers like it usually was, either.

Dean put his hands behind his head, trying not to freak out, trying not to cry. What was going on? He didn’t understand. Cas wouldn’t just leave. Not without telling him. There was still pictures on the shelf’s, on the walls, pictures of him and Cas, of them and Sam. Of Anna and Gabriel. Of Mike and Luci. Of everyone. His feather like blanket still laid across the couch. Cas wouldn’t leave without all of it. Cas wouldn’t leave without him.

That’s when Dean lost it. 

He took off, out of the living room, and into the upstairs hallway. Cas only used his bedroom upstairs, and Dean opened the door to it, pushing it hard enough to hit the wall. The bed wasn’t made and the window was wide open. Cas always made his bed. Cas never opened the windows except in the fall. Dean couldn’t just stand there. He went to Cas’s dresser and opened up the top drawer. And then the next one. And then the next one. And then the one under that. All his clothes were there. Completely folded. Like nobody had touched them.

Dean sat down the the bed, and put his face in his hands. He didn’t understand. Everything seemed normal upstairs, except for the bed and the window. The only time Cas never made his bed was when Dean would surprise him in the morning by showing up way too early, letting himself in, and jumping on the bed, landing beside the still sleeping Cas. The bed was old, with an old wooden head board, and one if not both of them would always end up hitting their heads on it. After Cas would wake up and pretend to be mad at Dean for awhile, they would roll around in bed until Cas was hungry enough, and Dean would be off to make breakfast. Cas would leave the bed unmade for the day. Dean hadn’t done that since...

Dean put his head up, his eyes gone big. He had did that the last time he was here. The day of the concert.

He still didn’t understand. He refused to understand. He looked behind him, to the window. Still wide open, the cold wind pushing through and surrounding him. He pushed himself off the bed, and went to shut it. It was almost stuck there, like it had been open for a long time. Dean just stood there. He had too many thoughts about it all, but he didn’t know what was real. Staring out the window, he saw the snow start to fall, not hard, but by morning, the ground would be covered. The wind had picked up a bit, bare trees moving with each other.

With final thoughts going through his head, he reached into his back pocket to get his phone. A little flip phone. Cas had always given him shit about it, while he had the newest iPhone, a gift from Anna. The thought of Cas laughing hurt.

He opened it up and pressed three on the speed dial.  
He waited.  
At first, there was no sound. Then a voice that he would have given anything not to hear.

“We’re sorry, but the number you have been trying to call has been disconnected. Goodbye.”

The voice was computerized and cold. It cut like a razor, sinking through the skin and hitting the bone. Dean’s breath stole away from him and he took the phone away from his ear and stared at it, as if it were alive.

He heard small steps coming up the stairs and stop at the door behind him, and he spun around with hope in his eyes. Just a little bit of hope.  
It all came crashing down when he saw Sam standing there in the doorway, snowflakes in his hair, sadness in his eyes, and a rose in his hands. 

Dean crashed. The phone fell from his hands, his arms fell to his side, his hope fell from his eyes, he fell to his knees. He started straight ahead at the wall, not moving. He heard Sam rush to him, getting on his own knees in front of him and looking at him, trying to get him to stand up.

“Dean! Dean, please...Dean.”

Dean heard him. But he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to look at his little brother and let him see the hurt in his eyes. So he looked at the bed instead. He knew what had happened. But he didn’t want to know.

They were quiet for a long time, sitting there in front of the window.

“He’s gone, isn’t he?”

Sam was surprised when his brother spoke. Dean had been staring at the bed, not moving, never looking at him. Now he was looking right at Sam, and all he could see was hurt, sadness and anger. All Sam could do was nod his head.

Dean watched his brother nod and that’s all he needed. He nodded his own head, and pressed his lips together, and his eyes shut, trying to stop the tears. They didn’t stop. After the first one, they ran down his face, an endless waterfall that he would never be able to stop. Or get away from. He forced himself up off the floor, eyes still closed. He heard Sam stand up in front of him, and his brother wrapped his arms around him. They stood there, Dean crying and Sam wishing more than anything that he could change it all. Dean opened his eyes finally and managed to see through the tears the rose by the door that Sam had dropped when Dean crashed.

Now he was angry. 

In one motion, Dean was out of Sam’s brotherly hug, and pushed him hard enough for him to hit the wall.

“Why, Sam!? Why!?” Dean rushed to where Sam was half down the wall and held him up by the top of his shirt. Sam just looked back at him, not a word of hurt or protest. He had been waiting for this.

“You knew this whole time, right?! You let me wake up, you let me believe that he was there with me this whole damn time! That’s why the doctors wanted to keep me, huh? That’s why that man showed up, that’s why I haven’t spoken to Charlie at all! Because you’ve been keeping all this some huge ass secret! What kind of brother are you!?”

Sam didn’t say anything and Dean lifted him off the wall and then pushed him back.

“Come on Sam, say something! Say something, you sonofabitch!”

Sam looked him dead in the eye, the sadness for his brother’s hurt showing in them. Dean was trying to overshadow the pain with anger. And it was almost working.

“Say something, dammit! How!? How did it happen, Sam? You owe me that!”

Sam nodded again, and all of Dean’s anger fell apart. He sat Sam back on the ground and moved a few feet away, putting his hand on the wall to keep him upright, looking at the floor. Sam stayed leaning against the wall.

They were silent for a few moments.

“Dean....he...when the passenger side hit the rail, the door was crushed and pushed inside...and then when the car flipped...”

Dean looked up at the wall, and Sam was unsure he should keep going. When Dean looked at him, his eyes colder than the weather, pain a mask on his face, he knew he had to. Or he would never forgive himself.

Sam lowered his voice to a whisper.

“It was his head. They...they thought everything was fine until the third night. A few hours before you woke up. They told...he hadn’t even woken up from the crash. They said that it was fast.”

As soon as Sam uttered the last word, Dean was going. He grabbed the rose off the floor, and ran down the stairs, not giving a damn about the thorns that pierced into his palm. He grabbed his keys from the front door where he had forgotten them, and ran to the Impala, flinging the door open, throwing himself in, and starting her up. He heard Sam following behind him, screaming after him.

“Dean! Dean, please! You can’t be driving like thi-”

He missed the rest of Sam’s words as he backed up, almost hitting Sam’s car at the bottom of the driveway. The rose was still in his hand, stabbing into his palm, blood dripping onto the stirring wheel.

He saw Sam race out of the house- he refused to call it Cas’s home anymore- yelling, and running down the driveway after him in his mirror. He knew that Sam would follow him. It really didn’t matter.

\-------

The snow was already covering most of the ground. There was a thin layer of it around where Dean had parked the Impala. He had been sitting in the car for what felt like hours, staring at the entrance. He didn’t want to get out. He didn’t want to see. But he had to.  
He climbed out of the car, gripping the rose in his hand. The blood from his palm dripped down onto the snow, staining it red. It left a trail as Dean walked onto the walkway , following it farther in. He passed all the stone, not bothering to look at the names. He walked for a few more minutes. He wasn’t sure where he needed to look but he knew he would find it.

Dean knew which it was when he got the back. The back is where the statues were.

_“Those angels statues are always so pretty,” Cas said, swinging his and Deans’s clasped hands, almost skipping through the park._ _They had gone to visit a park in the city with Sammy, Anna, and Gabriel. The park had numerous angel statues in every pose Dean could think of, some holding_ _birds. Dean, Cas, and Anna were walking around while Gabe and Sam went to get lunch. Cas had gotten Dean to wear something besides his_ leather jacket and _dark jeans, instead getting him into a white t-shirt, blue over-jacket and a pair of light blue jeans. Anna was dancing around them in a sun_ dress and Cas was _in his usual short sleeve and jeans attire._  
 _“Yeah, some of them are. But I don’t understand why they’re here. They’re usually in cemeteries.”_  
 _“They look pretty here though,” Anna had agreed with Cas._  
 _“I want one,” Cas had said to them both._  
 _“Now?” Dean asked him._  
 _“No, I mean I want one, when I, you know,” Cas trailed off and looked at Dean. Dean stiffened and looked back at Cas._  
 _“Don’t say that, I don’t even want to think about that.”_  
 _“I know but,” Cas looked at Dean and then Anna. “When it does happen, I want one. One like this.”_  
 _He pointed to the one in front of them, with it’s hands put together in front of it, it’s head looking up towards the sky. The wings were full and white, pointed at_ _the top, standing out completely._  
 _Anna was the one who responded to him._  
 _“I sister promise, Cas.” She held out her pinkie finger, and Cas locked his own around hers._ _To Anna and Cas, a sister promise was the greatest promise Anna could ever make to her younger brother._ _Anna gave him a smile, and then quickly changed the subject. Nobody said anything about it afterwards._

That was two years ago.

Dean looked up at the angel looking up at the sky, newly made but soon to have it's colors spoiled by the weather, and he fell to his knees in the snow in front of it. He couldn’t take his eyes off it. It sat on a stone, with a words craved into it. Dean dropped the rose in front of the stone, blood falling off the thorns onto the snow. He laid his hands on his knees, palms up, letting the blood sit there. He didn’t try to cover it. He didn’t try to stop himself from crying. And he didn’t try to stop his eyes from going to the writing craved on the base of the stone.

“Cas...” Dean muttered. He didn’t know what to say.

“I...I’m so sorry. This is...this is all my fault. If I hadn’t been so stupid, so fucking stupid...I just don’t understand...you were there! You were there the whole time!” Dean yelled at the stone angel.

He wanted to scream, fight the world. He wanted to go to the hospital they had been taken to, go to Cas's doctors, and show him his hurt. Make them feel like he did. Because his whole world was gone. He wanted to raise hell.

Instead he sat in the snow and and stared at the stone.

“I brought you the last rose. Your last rose. I...I love you so much, I hope you know that. Even now. I love you so damn much, Cas, that it hurts like a damned bullet.”

The tears were starting to come down like a waterfall again, and Dean couldn’t help but put his head in his hands. He knew there would be blood on his face and the cuts on his hand hurt, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore.

“Castiel!” He screamed, throwing his head up, looking up at the sky. 

Why? Why did this have to happen? Another person, another person that he lost because of his reckless self. This was all his fault. He would never be able to forgive himself for the damage he had done. He just...Dean couldn’t even manage real thoughts, he was in so much shock and despair. He didn’t know what to do with himself. So he sat there. The snow fell on him, and he let it. It covered his jacket and soaked through his jeans. He didn’t give a damn.

Soon, he heard footsteps, and felt a hand on his shoulder. He knew who it was but looked anyways. He had ran out of hope that it would be anyone else.

Sam stood there, looking down at him. He wasn’t shocked at Dean’s tear filled eyes or bloodied hand. He just sat down next to Dean, and put his arm around his arm around his older brother. Dean just leaned his head on his brother’s shoulder and cried, staring at rose in front of the stone.

He felt something. Something different. He looked up to his right and saw someone else standing there, an arm reached out to put a hand on Dean’s snow covered hair. Dean just smiled through his tears and he smiled back. Now that he was here, Dean was sure this was the last time he would see him. He felt the hand go through his hair, even though Dean knew it wasn’t real. But he smiled anyways, and tried to hold on to the smile that he received back, and those blue eyes. Those blue eyes that he had seen love in the whole time. And then he was gone.

Dean sat there and stared at the empty space behind him, his younger brother sitting next to him on his left. He looked back at the stone, everything blurry but he knew. He knew that Cas was okay, that Cas was always going to be okay now. He knew that he had seen Castiel for the last time. Then Dean turned to his left and looked at Sam, wrapping his own arm around Sam.

“He’s okay, Sammy. I know he is.”

Sam looked at him, not knowing what to say, and Dean nodded his head.

“Dean I-”

“Sammy, it’s okay.” 

Sam looked down and started to cry.

Crying for his brother, the man who had given everything for one man. Crying for Cas's family, for Anna, who had lost their little brother. Crying for himself, the little brother who had lost a best friend who had been there for him for as long as he would remember.

And for Castiel, who had been a part of the Winchester's lives for years, Dean's love for 3 years, and one of the greatest men they had ever known.

The Winchester’s cried together in the snow, in front the stone angel that looked up into the heavens, for the greatest friend Sam had ever had, and the man that Dean had loved more than anything in the world.

**Castiel Novak**  
 **March 20th 1987 - October 8th 2014**  
 **Beloved Son, Brother, and Friend**  
 **Flying with the Angels**


End file.
